This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

2.11 Setting Off, Philosophical Disagreements



They visited Anja One-Eye to handle their mundane portion of items first. They showed up late, Zoey having found success in her soapy teasing of Rosalie’s body during their shared shower. Not exceptionally late, though, but Rosalie seemed irritated at herself that she hadn’t made it to the old woman’s shop immediately on opening. Zoey had been called a few variations of the word ‘troublesome’.

Zoey spectated in silence as she watched her partner go about the haggling process. Of the ten or fifteen rather unimpressive pieces of dungeon loot they’d left with Anja, Rosalie only kept three. The rest they bartered to Anja, which, from Zoey’s understanding, would be shortly sold off to another party. Anja was simply an intermediary. Rosalie could make much greater profits if she took her time and shopped around, but Rosalie had said it herself: money didn’t matter. Beyond being able to supply themselves, they didn’t need the best equipment they could obtain for their advancement. In fact, Zoey got the sense Rosalie had no intentions of staying at advancement two for long enough for collecting second-advancement armor to matter.

Fe, the plush, curvy sheep-girl was up next. And Zoey was much more interested in the results of those items.

“It’s incredible,” Fe said. “The results of all three analyses were just, just fascinating! A first advancement shard, you said?”

Zoey grinned at the promising start. “Yeah. Let’s hear it.”

“Where should I start?” Fe had the three items they’d taken in to be identified laid out on the counter.

“Nipple rings, first?”

Fe nodded. “You were right to be suspicious. The name was standard enough—‘of alacrity’ is a routine modifier—but they serve more function than just a Wayfarer would take interest in.”

“They do, do they?” Zoey’s smile was growing. Fe seemed equal parts excited and awkward to talk about it.

“They’re still adventuring equipment, but yes—they serve a few uses. You’ll definitely want to keep them. Or sell them—I’m sure they’d go for a great price.”

“Get to it, please,” Rosalie said.

“Right! So. It has two sigils, as the description said. They’re synergistic with each other.” She coughed. “Forgive the frank phrasing: the first sigil accelerates a user’s arrival to orgasm.”

Zoey blinked rapidly. “That’s a good thing?” She guessed if you were looking for a quickie … but the build-up was the best part, usually.

“Like I said, it’s practical equipment! The second sigil, you see, produces a lingering attack-speed buff for fourteen to eighteen minutes after orgasm. So reaching orgasm fast is a good thing because of the synergy. It’s fairly potent, too. Twenty-two percent.”

“Percent!” Rosalie wasn’t a woman prone to outbursts; it drew a surprised look from Zoey. “An amplifier like that? As a first advancement artifact?”

“I know! Incredible, isn’t it?”

“That’s, that’s—” Rosalie paused. She wiped a hand down her face. “That makes this damned item the best I’ve found since I’ve come down here.”

“And it gets better!” Fe enthused. “This shard, you two really don’t know how lucky you got. The others are just as impressive.”

“Sounds like we’ll have to put them to good use,” Zoey said, grinning at Rosalie. “You know. For practicality’s sake.”

Fe’s face went red at the implication. Zoey had half forgotten they’d had company.

“We’ll discuss that later,” Rosalie said, also flushing, and shooting Zoey an annoyed look. “Please continue.”

“The second item. The, um, cock ring.” The lewd item name stumbled from the sheep-girl, even if she was much less awkward than Anja had been. “This one’s the least practical of the bunch, but also the,” she coughed, “erm, most fun-focused, to be direct. And quite bizarre. It does exactly as the description says—prevents orgasm, until the binder releases the item—but also more, something not specifically stated in the description. As expected of a rare-quality item. My analysis indicates the longer it’s attached, or perhaps rather, the longer and more intense an orgasm has been staved off, the larger the weapon grows.”

“Weapon?” Rosalie asked.

“W-Well, I didn’t want to be crude about things.”

“The cock,” Rosalie said flatly, looking at Zoey. “I don’t think bigger is what we need.”

Again—Fe flushed. “Oh. G-Good for you two.”

“Bigger’s always better,” Zoey returned, grinning at Rosalie. “I’m sure it’ll be an experience, if nothing else.”

Rosalie scoffed.

“And the last?” Zoey asked Fe.

“Right. The crown jewel, in my honest opinion.” Fe cracked open the wooden case, revealing the set of six increasing-in-size pairs of silver buttplugs. “Now, these are really something. I could see them going for fifteen, twenty gold, even.”

Rosalie’s eyebrows raised; Zoey assumed that was a lot. “And what do they do?”

“Empower the user! In a variety of ways. I’m going to have to invent some verbiage here, if you’ll forgive me, but basically, the larger the pair that the two users wear, the more ‘storage’ space for orgasmic energy.”

“Orgasmic energy,” Rosalie said disbelievingly. “What kind of empowerment? And why in pairs?”

“Beats me. For the pair requirement, I mean. Shard loot, am I right?” Fe coughed at Rosalie’s unimpressed expression. Zoey could tell Rosalie was keeping her reactions strictly under control, because she was intensely embarrassed by all this. “But they’ll only work when used together, and of the same size. The empowerment seems to affect a few things: vitality, perceptions, focus, and strength. Real useful mixture of stats. But the process is a bit specific.”

“Go ahead.”

“Once inserted, they’ll store energy with every successive orgasm, up until they’re removed—which will release the energy. So you’ll need to plan accordingly.”

“And it’s a powerful effect,” Rosalie said.

“Not multiplicative, but stronger for a lower advancement than the nipple rings. Assuming average first-advancement capabilities, probably close to a forty percent boost? For a second-advancement, probably around twenty-five.”

“In all categories you mentioned?”

Fe nodded along. “Like I said. Fifteen, twenty gold—for a first-advancement item. It’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“We really got lucky.” Zoey was the only one grinning here, but she couldn’t help herself.

“You really did.”

“How’d you figure all this out, anyway?” Zoey asked.

Fe tutted. “That’s a trade secret, ma’am. You’d need to join the Artificer’s Guild and finish an apprenticeship for me to tell you.”

“Did you clean them, at least?”

Fe paused, then flushed. She crossed her arms. “Hey! What are you implying?”

 

###

 

“Good news?” Zoey asked, walking into Sabina’s alchemy store. Sabina had remembered to flick her ‘open’ sign to the correct position, today. Not that the shop had any customers.

“Perhaps,” Sabina said, peeling off her goggles and separating herself from the simmering vat; the same way Zoey had found her yesterday. “It depends on your perspective of success.”

“The blossom blight.” That was the more important potion by an order of magnitude. Having aphrodisiacs on hand to spice things up was for sure something Zoey looked forward to, but not accidentally knocking girls up (again, assuming she could; her cock hadn’t come with a manual) was on the ‘must-have’ list rather than the ‘would be fun’ list. And sure, Zoey could start using condoms, but that was her back up plan. She’d rather not. “How’d that turn out?”

“Determine for yourself,” Sabina said. “One moment.” She disappeared into the backroom, then returned with four red vials in her hand. She laid them on the front counter.

Zoey inspected them.

[Potion of Impotency]: Render consumer infertile for four hours.

Zoey blinked. “Uh, yeah. That’s a success. Doesn’t even sound like a partial success.” Like she had thought Sabina had implied.

“I failed the reverse,” Sabina said. “I couldn’t synthesize the ‘blossom’. Without a doubt, the ingredient should yield something that increases fertility, too.”

“Oh,” Zoey said. “That’s, uh. Not necessary. For my use, at least. How much of the reagent did it take?”

“Perhaps a tenth.”

“And the flameroot?”

“Trickier. I believe when you return—and we have our first lesson—I’ll have something to show. But nothing yet.”

Zoey was a bit disappointed she wouldn’t have some to take along for their next adventure, because who knew when some aphrodisiac would come in handy, but the most crucial potion had been successful; she took satisfaction in that. “Works with me. Not to be curt or anything, but we should get a move on. We’re behind schedule. Do you need anything from me, or?”

“Yes,” Sabina said. She pulled from underneath the counter a kit about chest-width and a foot deep. “Keep an eye out for anything odd. Not all reagents come from chests. I would have loved a sample of those vines you mentioned—their secretions, or the plants themselves. I suspect they would have served as a fascinating ingredient. This is a collection kit—bring it with you.”

“Oh,” Zoey said. “Sure. Anything in specific to look for?”

“Use your best judgment,” she said. “It depends on whether you get an aberrant shard again.” She tilted her head. “You do seem unusually confident you will.”

Zoey coughed. “Maybe I’m optimistic.” She vanished the collection-kit into her inventory. “Okay. Well. Be back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” Sabina said idly, walking back to her potion-preparation station. “Any time of the day, or night. I sleep in the back room. Feel free to visit, if you find something worth my time.”

You sleep in your backroom, and you’re still broke? This woman desperately needed someone handling the business portion of her, well, business.

 

###

 

A bleary-eyed Delta answered the door.

“Man, you weren’t kidding,” she said. “Third bell?”

Please tell me you didn’t just wake up,” Rosalie said.

Zoey repressed a sigh. She’d been hoping Rosalie and Delta would work off their distasteful first impressions of each other, but Delta not being ready on their agreed-upon time wasn’t going to help with that.

“I thought you were joking,” Delta said. “Third bell. Really?”

“Why would I be joking about—”

“Kidding. Lighten up, blondie. Sheesh. Give me like, three minutes.” Delta slammed the door shut.

“I’ll like her,” Rosalie said tightly as they stared at the wooden door, “if I give her a chance, will I?”

“She’s, uh. An acquired taste?”

 

###

 

Zoey, Rosalie, and Delta descended the titanic trunk of one of Treyhull’s many supports. Their destination, the Crystal Ravines, a second advancement realm three shifts away—and where Zoey’s party would be seeking their second, more powerful this time, shard.

To think this one’s going to be voluntary.

The first tried to molest them. What would the second do?

 

###

 

A surprising amount of adventuring was just … walking. The trip to Rosalie’s chosen realm—the Crystal Ravines—where they’d be seeking their second shard was no small venture by itself; and even once there, they’d need to scour the zone, looking for the enigmatic markers that indicated the entrance to a shard.

In the meantime, they talked.

“You’re really that inexperienced?” Delta asked.

“First time I ever casted a spell was yesterday,” Zoey said. “First time I ever got in a fight in general, really.”

“Damn. Seriously?” Delta turned to Rosalie. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s why I asked if you were self-sufficient,” Rosalie said. “Take care of yourself, and I’ll be able to focus on her.”

“Sure,” Delta said, “but I dunno, still. Shards are shards. She’s the only first advancement going into this, and she’s got no clue what’s going on. She’s over her head big-time.”

“I’ll protect her.”

“You better.” Delta shook her head. “I know she makes our runes evolve faster, but I’m not trying to get someone killed just ‘cuz she’s useful to us.”

Rosalie stiffened. She turned a withering glare to Zoey. “You told her that?”

“She’s got a big fucking mouth,” Delta said. “You have to have learned that. Haven’t you two been together for a bit?”

“I didn’t see why I shouldn’t,” Zoey said defensively. She was really being assaulted here; the allegations of being useless were entirely true, but the second vector of disapproval, she felt unjustified. She didn’t think having a trusting nature was a bad thing. It opened her up to vulnerability, but Zoey also didn’t want to be a person who never opened up to others on the off chance she was stung. Which wasn't to say she'd be outright idiotic about it, blabbing her secrets to anyone willing to listen, but Delta was—

Well, shit. She didn't know. She trusted Delta. Zoey thought she was pretty good at reading people, and Delta was easier to read than most; and she didn't think the fox-girl wore her heart on her sleeve as some kind of ruse. 

"You didn't see why not," Rosalie said flatly. “Really.”

Zoey sighed. "I'm happy you're looking out for me, but it's my choice, not yours, who I tell what to."

Which Rosalie couldn't argue. She turned back to Delta. "I'm not 'putting her in danger' because she's useful to me—not any more than I would any teammate. I do the same for you, and you to me, or her, as well. It's the nature of our profession."

"She's practically a civilian," Delta said. "Not to mention she has her memories wiped, doesn't have the first clue how most things work. So no, it's not the same. Most teammates, I can assume know the risks."

"I'll be guarding her," Rosalie said. "So unless you'd like to level similar accusations of incompetence toward me, she’ll be fine.”

“It’s not your competence I’m worried about, old blood. It’s that if there’s anything your type is famous for, it’s stepping on throats on the long way up the ladder.”

“Such is the game,” Rosalie said. “But she needs to be protected to be useful, doesn’t she? So I’ll protect her, if nothing but for that. So your point is moot. You fling insults simply to fling them.”

Zoey’s stomach was sinking at the brutal analysis Rosalie provided. Especially the ‘stepping on throats is necessary’ part. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Rosalie blinked as she turned to Zoey—then something in her posture closed off, face going blank. “I would love to stand here and wax lyrical, babble like an idealist, extol the virtues of cooperation and raising each other up, but the reality,” the word dripped from her mouth with distaste, “is that not much can be accomplished without someone getting hurt. Advancement may not be a zero-sum game, but it’s something close.”

Zoey had known Rosalie had harsh view points—that this world in general would, considering its brutal axioms of existence—but hearing her lay them out pained her. She doesn’t mean it. Except, it sounded like she did.

“And that’s all that matters,” Delta said. “Higher, higher, higher. Everything else is noise.”

“Essentially,” Rosalie said harshly, “But satisfy yourself with mediocrity. Why would I care?”

Delta snorted, then caught Zoey’s eyes, who had watched the exchange with growing unease.

“Old blood,” Delta said simply. “I told you.”

“Old blood is old for a reason,” Rosalie said. “And it will continue to be. But bask in your moral superiority.”

They walked in silence. 

They both thought they’d won the argument.

Zoey guessed they both had.


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